


I Lost You

by mymindsofar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Illusions, Light Dom/sub, Loki changes his appearance into Bucky's, Loki makes the Captain kneel, M/M, Rimming, Top!Loki, Wow, and stuff happens, sub!Steve, there's angst, this started off as a stupid idea with a friend and now I'm hooked, top!Bucky (sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymindsofar/pseuds/mymindsofar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Pants off" the deep, throaty voice instructs, a cold command of a controlling person. It's not right, but not like it matters. Steve is eager, he’s been deprived of this for so long. He unbuckles his belt and shoves the pants off with the addition of two more hands, and his underwear follows in the same breath. The liberation mixes with relief, with his cock jumping out from confinement.</p>
<p>"I want you to kneel." Bucky's voice sends shivers through his body. He'd do anything for that, if only he could. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>I'm sorry, Buck, I'm so sorry...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Lost You

         He's there.

         Steve faces the window, watches the reflection behind his own, studying the curled corners of the other man’s lips, dark and mischievous.

         Loki's hand touches his back almost carefully, following the valley of his spine, and although Steve is clothed, he shudders at the touch. He feels Loki approaching even closer, waiting for approval.

         Steve nods. "Now." He doesn't see how it works, his eyes on the floor, but when they travel up again, it's the hand of someone familiar touching his cheek from behind. It's an illusion, he tells himself, but it feels damn real for one.

         He holds himself from sighing a name, but now he dares to turn around, look into the grey eyes that  he knows  hide atrocious green underneath.

         What am I doing?

         Steve's  lips find familiarity when they collide with  his, but their roughness sends his pulse racing and his breath cracking into small gasps. Because that's not him. That's not  Bucky.

         It's not like you got many choices lined up, Rogers.

         As the kiss grows angrier and Steve notices himself grabbing the other man's clothes, he knows this is the last chance to bail out as his pulse threatens to exceed super soldier limits.

         But instead, the grip grows tighter and he pleads, he pleads for fuck's sake to take off the man's shirt.

         "All yours." is the huffed answer, a breathless exhale. Under the green shirt, scarred skin and beautiful outlines of well defined muscle are revealed. Loki just couldn't have known. Not that well.

         "Oh God..." he mumbles, sinking his head into the shoulder that should be Bucky's. It smells like him, too. The permanent trace of gunpowder, sweat, cigarettes and alcohol, but also snow.

         Does snow have a smell?

         Heavy hands shove him down and he drops on the floor almost too roughly,  his  bare torso in all its perfection hovering above him.

         Cold fingers travel under his shirt, clutching the hem of grey fabric and pulling it up, ripping sounds screaming somewhere in between. But it's off now.

         Steve’s back rests on the soft grey carpet as  his  lips attack every newly offered spot of bare skin. A little overwhelmed by the response, Steve zones out enjoying the treatment, until the other man looks up from what he's doing and it's the panting mouth with a resting lust face he knows so well.

         "Buck-uhh..." Steve mutters when teeth sink into his stomach, and he whimpers soundly as the bite stings, involuntarily arching his back.

         "Pants off" the deep, throaty voice instructs, a cold command of a controlling person. It's not right, but not like it matters. Steve is eager, he’s been deprived of this for  so long . He unbuckles his belt and shoves the pants off with the addition of two more hands, and his underwear follows in the same breath. The liberation mixes with relief, with his cock jumping out from confinement.

         "I want you to kneel." Bucky's voice sends shivers through his body. He'd do anything for that, if only he  could . 

         I'm sorry, Buck, I'm so sorry...

         "Yes." he complies, offering his backside to the illusion of an old friend.

         "Head down." he is instructed, and he lowers his chest on the floor, one cheek sinking into the carpet. 

         He's an idiot. This is Loki's mischief, having him in this compromising position. It's only worse that he prefers it this way.

         His  hands travel over the hollow of Steve's back again, as if fascinated by its shape, lowering to cup his ass cheeks and Steve bites back a whimper, erection throbbing almost painfully. Still, his own hands don't even travel remotely close to where he needs them, maybe too afraid, or just sinfully excited.

         "Lubrication?" the voice asks sweetly, and Steve could have sworn the words echoed in Loki's voice.

         Steve grunts and tells him, "Under the left pillow". He glances up, and before deciding to get it himself, the other man has already returned.

         "Prepared, aren't we?"  Not like Scandinavian Gods walk in and out here these days , Steve  thinks, building up his defense walls with awful timing. 

         Now, there's clearly Loki protruding under the perfect suit of Bucky Barnes. "He's seen you that vulnerable, hasn't he? The American Hero, all opened up and defenseless." 

         "Oh, I wouldn't lean on 'defens-'" he grunts back, but the invasion of a slick thumb causes him to yelp aloud instead of finishing his pride talking.

         "Too much, soldier?" the brunet asks, and he won't admit that he likes Bucky in that snarky, careless tone instead of an abundance of questions having him second guess whether he enjoys it or not. 

         He did  not  just think that.

         Bucky wouldn’t be the like that. If Bucky still underneath the Winter Soldier. He does, he has to, Steve needs him.

         "More..." he exhales, stretching his arm out to grab for something, and he whimpers as there’s nothing but the floor within reach. An unexpected pain kicks out any leftover thoughts in his head. It's the addition of a second finger, as coldly slick as the first one, both in a scissoring dance breaking him apart. 

         "Don’t worry, your little sounds stay with  me ." His silken voice promises, and Steve feels a twitch sending his dick against his stomach, a pant breathed out against the woven fabric underneath him.

         The fingers travel deeper inside him. He forces himself to relax against the pinch of pain keeping him alert. He has a safe word, because you don't have sex with the God of Mischief without at least making some kind of consensual agreement. But it isn't a safe precaution.

         These aren't his limits. There’s a lot more to come. 

         To Steve’s genuine surprise, the other man doesn’t pull anything off until the sting subsides with one more finger and it starts to feel pleasurable and he accidentally  groans  against the carpet.

         That’s when he’s derived of any contact, and suddenly it’s all back again. It  is  Bucky, he finds himself thinking. A sob washes over his face and he covers it pathetically with a moan as the first thrust hits. In the beginning slowly, for adjusting time, completely directed by Steve’s nature of sounds. It’s ridiculous that he feels in control, despite obviously being pinned to the floor and completely at the other man’s mercy.

         “This is… nice.” Bucky’s voice says, but the intonation is far from the owner. Steve grumbles something that has trailed off too far from words, and a chuckle surges from behind him. His cheek begins to rub against the scuffing fabric, and it burns from the continuous rocking movements. The mark won’t last long, but it’s a temporary proof of his low point, of his weakness. 

         Screw that.

         “H-harder…” he groans, and the thrusts slow down immediately until nearly stopping. “You don’t make the rules, little soldier. You get what you want when  I  say so, understand?” Sugar drips from the words, poisonous, sick and soft. A snake talking him into taking that fruit from Paradise. And he’s falling for it.  The worst snake of them all.

         Falling…

         “... Hah… Yes. I'm sorry.” he complies, clenching his fists and groaning at the speed, if there is one to speak of. But every few stretched thrusts, there  is  that small connection made with his prostate, sending sparks through his chest and raising the pale hairs on his underarms. 

         Bucky would whisper things. Filthy or innocent, sweet or rough. But this person keeps quiet. Rogers, you know, you know… Don’t do this to yourself…

         He’s getting more vocal now, shoving his hips back dauntingly. There is a snapping point in the other man where Steve is thrusted into with inelegant vigor causing him to howl to at the ceiling. He tries to get up on his elbows but  Loki  shoves him back down. “ Stay where you belong.”  he hisses, and Steve doesn’t trust his own mind anymore as he does nothing more.

         This  is  where you belong.

         He pants against the floor, and feels the small drops from his wet forehead collide with tears streaming down his burning skin and he realizes that he  wants  this. He  wants  to be taken apart, little piece by piece, and now he wants it from the last person one should ever trust.

         It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not… Bucky would be loud, he’d let nothing go unnoticed, but this man… Steve, STEVE.

         Once the cock inside him finds that angle that makes him shudder like a leaf, it makes sure to get that every single time. Steve is  definitely  crying now, panting and moaning and shuddering, sweating like his soul is about to escape through his pores. And he wants it harder, he wants to take all of it, he wants to get his release and…

         The emptiness is so unexpected that he’s leaning back to meet another trust only to find nothing. He isn’t sure whether he’s allowed to move, given what followed the last time he tried, and he stays there, breathing out. still painfully hard and  aching.

         “How would the little soldier like that Silvertongue up his ass? Could that make you  come ?”  Please, Bucky . “Heard your friend was a mouthful, would you like to  compare ?” He stresses that last word like chewing gum.

         “Uhh-huhh…”

         “Get on your back.” The man instructs, and as beautiful the illusion might seem, Loki isn’t even pretending anymore, watching as Steve moves, inclining his head back to escape the face of a ghost. “You’re so  good , Captain. So obedient. A little pet you are.” His filthy words shouldn't make him moan. A tongue touches him, darting around his perineum, teasing him into losing his mind. Steve’s cheeks are being spread further apart, and Steve dares to look down at the focused face of a man he once knew  sucking  at his hole and making him howl again. Loki’s rough approach made the spot more sensitive than ever before, and his hips buck back against Bucky’s lips. Loki eats him out in a manner no one would ever expect from the prince of Asgard. 

         It’s humiliating for Steve, not for Loki. And Steve relishes this particular form of humiliation, of every little move of the mythical Silvertongue, earning every letter of it’s name. His cheeks are squeezed roughly, hipbones pressed back in place when he tries to shift and his cock is just briefly bestowed with attention, with lazy licks around the slit followed by electrical waves running through his system. Bless the serum for making him feel every facet, every touch in a wholly different dimension, unimaginable for an average human being.

         The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up. “Can you still take me, little soldier?” he asks, and Steve nods in agreement, offering himself in the most open way he can. And he’s filled up again, at the speed he earlier exceeded, swimming in a river of sensations and barely making a sound now. He’s too close to care now, he wants it too much to find the words to tell. 

         His breath stops immediately as he comes, over his chest and partly on the carpet, and the other man continues to fuck him through it, deep against his sensitive spot until he gets his own release.

         Just as quick as the Demigod appeared, he vanishes, and Steve feels scattered across space, more lost than before.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a somewhat fun idea of Loki/Steve and then it did the angst thing and now we have this mess. I added it subtly to avoid ruining the mood, but let's pretend Steve _couldn't_ save Bucky, even after he got him back and things sort of escalated into this. Loki is just having fun and reaping the benefits of super angsty Super Soldiers I suppose.  
>  But it's consensual, I mean, as consensual as it gets.


End file.
